


Sanctuary

by greenkangaroo



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Kishimoto call me I can fix everything, aftermath of konoha crush, family fic, inferred child abuse, puppeteer worldbuilding, rebuilding after loss, sibling bonds, so your dad got shanked and you didn't really like him anyway, suna worldbuilding, theatre kids being The Most Extra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 11:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13974336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenkangaroo/pseuds/greenkangaroo
Summary: Temari would not have chosen the Red Sands Playhouse to make their stand.Or, the inevitable aftermath of a parent's death, a failed mission, and an uncertain future.





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> The first portion of this fic first appeared on my tumblr mid-last year.

Temari would not have chosen the Red Sands Playhouse as the spot to make their stand but Kankuro has, is forcing them backwards towards the building's face by virtue of being the only one unburdened enough to stand as their shield. 

A gang of jounin are advancing and Gaara is exhausted. “The Kazekage is dead,” the closest one says, “and it’s time for him to go.” 

“Cowards!” Temari spits because it’s not in her nature to be silent in her fear. “If he was well you’d run screaming!” 

“But he isn’t,” one of the jounin says reasonably- the gentle looking one who works in the missions office, the one Temari had always secretly thought wasn’t so bad. “Miss Temari, please. Just give us the demon. Enough damage has been done.” 

Karasu continues to click and Kankuro’s voice is husky in his exhaustion, sounding a little too much like her father’s as he says, “Try it, dirtbag.” 

“There is no reason-” Yura starts, and Temari is going to start screaming at Yura because he is Baki’s _friend,_ he taught them how to read the signs of passing desert snakes, how could he betray them after all this time- when the back of Temari's foot hits the stucco wall and all around them everything goes dark. 

Temari doesn’t sag because if she does she will drop Gaara- precious Gaara, dangerous Gaara, barely awake and in need of a doctor for the first time in his life. 

The Puppeteers have come.

They array themselves in a semicircle around the children of the dead Kazekage. They are thirty strong with Master bunraku hoods, apprentice points long since folded over.  

“They’ve crossed the Playhouse line, Yura.” The biggest one says, arms folded and blue painted face impassive. “They’re ours now.” 

“If you don’t think for a second-” one of the jounin says but Yura shakes his head. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks the speaker.

The puppeteers remain silent but the air fills with clicking as one by one monsters are summoned from embroidered sleeves, inked scrolls, tattooed skin covered by stage ready black. 

They fall into the first performance position with their legs spread and fingers outstretched, and wait. 

“Fine.” Yura spits, “throw your lot in with that _thing,_ and we’ll see how the Council wends.” 

In a moment the jounin are all gone and Kankuro asks, “Dragon?” 

“Get them inside, Crow.” the blue-painted puppeteer says. Kankuro nods and turns to his siblings, Karasu slung over his shoulder- he has no chakra left to wrap his puppet, was posturing on a wing and a prayer. He takes Gaara’s other arm, smiles at his sister, mouths, “It’s going to be okay.” 

He leads them into the Playhouse, past the great double-doors and the box office risen in glass with gold trimming, around the deep bowl of the stage and its thousands of seats. He takes them to a side door Temari has never seen before. 

“Kankuro,” Gaara says sleepily and they pause. 

“Yeah?” Kankuro asks, doing his best to shed the gruffness that makes him Rasa. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Gaara asks. Temari looks from one brother to another because in any other situation, yes. This was forbidden, it was Not Done, it had given puppeteers reason to kill and no one had ever faulted them for it but Kankuro is shaking his head. 

“Sanctuary, bro.” He says, shouldering the door open to reveal stairs twisting in all directions. “Sanctuary.” 

\---

Kankuro leads them to a room lined with beds. It is a dormitory emptied of occupants- recently? Temari isn't sure she wants to know. She helps Gaara into the nearest bed. His eyes are glassy but he is still awake, was awake for the entire desperate push home. 

Temari thinks of the jounin baying for blood outside the theatre. 

If this place is home anymore. 

Kankuro bustles here and there, hooking Karasu up above Gaara's head and going to the deeply dug well on the other end of the room. He brings the water back. "It's gonna taste awful," he warns his brother, and helps Gaara drink. 

Most of the water winds up dribbling down Gaara's chin but he manages. There is movement on the other side of the door and both older brother and sister have kunai in their hands when it opens. 

Temari thinks the puppeteer might be a woman, but once the paint is on it's hard to tell. 

"Gecko," Kankuro says and he doesn't relax so Temari doesn't either. Gecko puts her hands on her hips. 

"They tell me I need to tend a demon," she says. 

Kankuro's grip on the kunai tightens and it tells Temari more about his relationship with his fellow puppeteers than any of his bravado ever did. Gecko knows it, too. Her silt-colored eyes soften. 

"Relax, Crow." She says. "You're safe." 

Kankuro continues to watch her. 

"Kankuro?" Gaara asks. 

"Your brother is concerned for your health," Gecko says, approaches fearlessly. She sets her kit on the bed and looks Gaara over. "You're tired?" 

He can barely nod. 

Gecko gives him a swift once-over. "The other chakra is burning out any infection in your shoulder," she says, "but I will do what I can. In your current state, I've no doubt I could kill you. Then your sister and brother would kill me. let's have no more killing today, little demon. Agreed?" 

Gaara blinks slowly. Temari bares teeth. Karasu gives one puny little click. 

"Good." Gecko says. 

\---

Temari and Kankuro sleep in shifts to watch over Gaara, too tired to be overcome by a demon still nursing his wounds but so used to not sleeping that he's taken to laying on his back and hallucinating that he's on the ocean floor. It's a pattern the siblings have perfected but Temari is having a tough time getting rest on her break, even as tired as she is. 

The playhouse is so quiet and so big. She can sense the vastness of the building on the other side of the walls. She hears scratching in the plaster and footsteps in the hall but when she opens the door, she can see no one. 

When Temari starts awake, she sees Kankuro standing guard beside Gaara. The big blue-painted puppeteer- Dragon- is speaking to him, low and fast. Kankuro is nodding. Temari's eyes close again. When she opens them Kankuro is also asleep. She's about to sit up and chew him out, damn her own exhaustion, when she sees the chair beside Gaara is filled. 

Baki made it home after all. 

Temari inhales sharply and Baki looks up. Their eyes meet and Temari hates that hers water, just a little. 

"Is father really dead?" She whispers. 

Baki nods. 

Temari clenches her eyes shut, rolls over, and cries. 

\---

The puppeteer that brings them food is called Frog, and he's close to Kankuro's age. 

He carefully sets up the containers, keeps a cautious eye on Gaara. 

Kankuro catches his arm on the way out. 

"Can you bring a Book?" He asks. "And some paint?" 

"Sure," Frog says. He leaves and returns with a few little pots, a couple of brushes, and a book. 

After he's scrubbed all all the old paint at the well Kankuro sits on the end of Gaara's bed and flips through it. Temari looks over his shoulder. 

"Are they all puppeteer faces?" She asks. 

"They're characters," Kankuro tells her. 

"Like in the stories in the marketplace," Gaara offers. His siblings look at him and he looks away. 

"I like that one," Temari says, and Kankuro scoffs. "You would but I am not wearing Princess Shinkokami." 

"Why not? It'd be so fetching." 

"It's too delicate a role for me," Kankuro says. "Besides that bastard doesn't rate Princess Shinkokami."

Temari falls silent and Kankuro keeps flipping through the pages. 

"That's the one you had on," Temari says. "Genkuro the fox?" 

"He gets away with murder," Kankuro replies. "Should have been blue paint- he's a villain- but," Kankuro shrugs. "Nothing but purple for the son of the Kazekage." The bitterness in his words is old. Temari puts a hand on her brother's shoulder. 

"What about that one?" Gaara asks a few pages later. 

It is mostly straight lines, a step away from the more complicated swirls and circles of the other faces. Kankuro eyes it critically. 

"The moon speaker?" He asks. "Talk about a minor role." 

Gaara shrugs. It's a fascinating piece of body language. They have never seen him shrug before. 

"What the hell, could use a prophet right now," Kankuro mutters and opens his paints. 

Temari watches her brother hide their father's face with quick and efficient strokes.

"If you keep staring I might do a trick," Kankuro tells her. 

"Don't be a jerk." She replies. 

\---

When Gaara is deep in his resting trance Temari hears Kankuro whisper, "He apologized." 

She doesn't respond for a moment or two because yes he did but what good is an apology from Gaara? Gaara, who has kept them alive because they benefit him? She wants to say something to cut the strings, remind her brother that they had once made a pact to be sure their survival was paramount even if it cost their brother's life. 

Temari doesn't. Instead she turns and watches Kankuro over Gaara's prone body. He's so small. He was always small, from the day he was born. She'd wanted to protect him once. 

The Sand protects now. Or it would, if it had the chakra it needed. 

It would be so easy to do as the jounin wanted, to strike him down and be done with it. 

Temari bites her lip until it bleeds and shoves her hands under her pillow. 

\---

Baki returns to them on the third night of their fostering.

Relations with Konoha are not great, but they are not catastrophic, either. A good deal of the mess can be blamed on Orochimaru. Forensics has determined that their father was dead for a week before the Chunin exam.

The jounin are trying to ferret the siblings out but Red Sands Playhouse and its puppeteers are having none of it. There have been three fatal poisonings. The Suna Council has decreed the building off-limits. 

"We're going to want something for this," Kankuro tells Baki. "We never do anything for free." 

"I'm sure you will," Baki agrees smoothly, letting Kankuro have his guilt by association, "but right now Red Sands is all that's standing between the Council and a signed execution for Gaara." 

"Why not let it happen?" Gaara asks. He sounds genuinely curious. It makes Temari a little sick to her stomach, reminds her of Kankuro's words in the dark and her own thoughts. 

"Don't be ridiculous," she says, trying to sound like she means it, "you're our brother." 

Gaara says, "What does that mean?" 

"We can't teach you in a day, bro," Kankuro says. "give it time. You might find out it's more trouble than it's worth." 

\---

As inevitable as a sandstorm and just as unwanted, Chiyo arrives. 

Kankuro does not let her pass the threshold of the dormitory. He meets her outside in the hallway. Temari prods her recovered chakra center to reassure herself that she can fight ten puppets if she needs to. 

"This is her fault, " Gaara whispers. Temari doesn't respond because it is, technically. Chiyo was the one who sealed the demon into Gaara, did a piss poor job of it. 

There is a Sound and Temari feels cold panic flooding her body. She stands, whips open her fan to show all three moons because Father is angry-

No. 

It isn't Rasa roaring, it's Kankuro. Another chakra signature and another voice join up- Baki trying to keep the peace. 

When Kankuro comes back in, he's tense. 

Temari stands. 

"The Council's meeting in the morning," he says. It goes without saying that their fates will be decided. 

They are the children of a traitor on paper, for all their father sacrificed his honor, family, and life to keep Sunakagure alive. 

\---

"You're helping with scenery." 

"Like fuck we are," Kankuro tells the puppeteer in the doorway. She puts her hands on narrow hips and gives him a look. 

"We've kept your family alive this long, Crow," she says, "give a little." 

"I know better," Kankuro shoots back. 

She sighs. "It's just painting, Crow." She assures him. "We've got the Rabbit and the Badger happening in a couple weeks and everyone knows you paint the best forests." 

"Our Kazekage is dead and you're putting on the Rabbit and the Badger?" Kankuro asks, clearly disgusted. "Just tell me to drown myself already." 

"Damn it, Crow!" She snaps. "I am TRYING here!" 

Temari hears the warning in her voice, watches Kankuro's jaw set. 

"The Playhouse is divided, too," she says, "Isn't it?" 

Gaara, sitting on the bed behind Temari and restored now to full health, says, "No doubt there have been attempts." 

No one asks what kind of attempts he means. The puppeteer stiffens her upper lip. 

"Sparrow?" Kankuro asks carefully. 

"You know Dragon's had shifts outside the door," she says. "You know we've had Snake check the well source. Don't act surprised. So just- damn it, Crow, bring your stupid demon and your stupid sister and come paint the fucking leaves where we can keep an eye on you." 

"Fine." Kankuro says. "I'll paint the leaves. With my sister and my _brother._ " 

"Whatever," Sparrow mutters, and stalks off. 

\---

The Playhouse backstage is massive, a self-contained labyrinth that empties out into the main floor. There are swinging weights and shifting floors, opening trapdoors and spring loaded sets. A few items require a touch of chakra but a layman could run most of them. 

They have to pass through the backstage to get to the building room. Kankuro remains behind his siblings. Temari stays well to Gaara's left. It's not their ideal traveling pattern, but it's the best they can do in such cramped quarters. 

They make it without incident though every time she hears a voice Temari looks over her shoulder at Kankuro, knowing it makes her seem nervous and knowing that is showing weakness but unable and unwilling to continue into the vast dark without his reassurance. 

The building room has other puppeteers in it- some in face paint, some not. 

Sparrow is there, hair up in a tight bun. 

"Ever painted a set?" She asks Temari. 

Temari shakes her head. 

"Okay. You and me, we'll tackle the shadows." 

\---

Kankuro really is the best at painting leaves. 

Gaara takes a few moments to watch him work. He's seen Kankuro apply his face paint, of course. Once or twice during missions he has done quick camouflaging techniques on his siblings. This is different. 

This is art for art's sake, and it's clear in every move his brother makes. Kankuro has a way of mixing together colors that shouldn't ever touch and turning them into something else entirely. Gaara never realizes that leaves had so much brown and orange in them. 

Gaara is realizing that he doesn't know a lot of things. 

The puppeteers are by and large avoiding him but Frog approaches. He doesn't bother to hide how he's shaking.

"We need this door painted," Frog tells Gaara. "Red. Can you do that?" 

Gaara has never been asked to paint anything in his life. He studies the way Temari is holding her brush, pretends not to notice that over the draping silk he's working on Kankuro has gone still and shifted his legs into the best position to launch himself at Frog. 

He nods. 

Frog brings him to the door. "It's the old lady's door," he says though Gaara doesn't need to know what the set piece is. "Here, let me lay out a drop cloth." 

\---

The forest is mostly done and the door passably red when Badger comes in with food. 

Temari suspects that under his paint and cowl Badger is probably a jolly middle aged man, the kind who teases his wife and gives sweets to his kids. Regardless, when he carries bento boxes over Temari doesn't touch them. 

Kankuro does, picking them up and doing the poison test jutsu he'd perfected when it became clear the assassins their father hired were told to not worry about collateral damage. 

Nothing turns blue. The food is safe. Kankuro nods his thanks to Badger and brings it to his brother and sister, putting himself between them and the other puppeteers. 

Temari rests her hand on Kankuro's shoulder, watches as they are watched. 

She feels compelled to apologize but can't be sure for what, so she just eats. 

\---

Baki arrives as they are moving the set pieces to the drying area. Instinctively they line up. Temari first, Kankuro second, Gaara last. 

Baki looks them over. 

"We survive another day," he says. 

Temari's shoulders sag and Kankuro says, "What are they gonna do with us?" 

"Nothing, for now," Baki says. "but we've overstayed our welcome." 

Temari pretends she doesn't see the crinkle of relief at the corners of Kankuro's eyes. 

"You hear that, bro?" He asks Gaara. "We can exit stage right." 

"What does that mean?" Gaara asks. 

"It means get out," one of the puppeteers says. Another whacks him with a short piece of wood. 

\---

Their rooms have been thoroughly ransacked but Temari can't find anything of importance missing. She has no friends to write to, and so there was no correspondence for the Black Sands to examine. She doesn't use poisons and her spare weapons kits are left on her work table. 

The white porcelain fan Kankuro and Gaara got for her last birthday is unharmed above her window. The watercolor of her summon has had its frame broken. Temari is sure someone was reprimanded for not leaving things the way they found them. 

She goes down into the dark to find Kankuro's workshop door open. It's a lot like the Playhouse, the basement of the Kazekage tower. She used to wonder why Kankuro preferred it, doesn't wonder anymore. 

She finds him sorting through gears. 

She doesn't ask but he says, "It's all here. Mostly." 

She sits down beside him. "What's missing?" 

"Nothing important," Kankuro says. There's a hiss of sand and they both look to the door. Gaara is standing there. 

"How about you?" Kankuro asks him. "How's the family? Still prickly?" 

"Untouched for the most part," Gaara says. "One was knocked over. She has been repotted." A moment of silence. 

"How long are they going to let us stay?" Gaara asks. 

Neither of his siblings know. 

A new Kazekage has to be picked, a new treaty written. The porcelain fan, the puppet parts, the cacti Gaara has hand-raised all of it will have to be moved. They are technically orphans, wards of Suna. They could be told to go anywhere. Their father's estate is still frozen and their own personal assets are too pending a finishing investigation that should turn up nothing. 

They know better. The desert is not above treachery to survive or find someone to blame. 

Wherever they wind up, Temari fervently hopes there's a deep basement for Kankuro to hide in and enough light for Gaara's cactus tower. 

\---

Their father is going to be buried and it is time to prepare. 

Temari brushes her hair into its four directions, ties each with a twist of cloth in their family colors. The small hand fan she slides into her obi has edges that open into a deadly razor. 

Gaara needs help with his clothes. He never had to dress for official functions before. Kankuro shows him how to layer, Temari ties his obi. It goes without saying that he can't bring his gourd, but enough of the sand trickles out and packs onto his sand armor that if he needs it. 

If he needs it. 

Kankuro has given himself the white base coat he often skips when they're on missions. He searches through one of his Books and picks a face named Tomofusa. 

"Who is that?" Gaara asks.

"The protagonist of Mochizuki. A samurai who lost his master to betrayal," Kankuro says, "and plans to take revenge." 

Kankuro's kimono is not as high a quality as Temari's or Gaara's. It could easily fray, given the right circumstances. Could unwind, become strings. 

They all strap kunai to their legs. 

\---

Kankuro has always wondered what he will look like when he's dead. 

He suspects he knows now, though he hopes he isn't buried without a Face. 

He knows the Playhouse hates him, but even they would not deny him the right to join Chikamatsu in the Pure Land. 

Would they? 

He is one of the last to view the Kazekage for personal farewells and under Baki's watchful eye he slides a paintbrush from his sleeve, a pot from his belt, and gives his father a Face. 

It isn't a perfect Lord Tomoharu, but it's the best he can do under the circumstances. 

The Playhouse, should they know, will throw a fit. Rasa would hate it. 

Kankuro replaces his brush and paints. Tomofusa prays for his Lord. A son turns his back on his father. 

\---

The Rabbit and the Badger is a story of revenge. 

It's hard to watch and Temari hates herself a little for it. She watches Kankuro instead. He's very still save when his fingers twitch along with the movements of the two animal puppets who make up a majority of the play. 

When the performance is done they wait until the Playhouse has almost emptied to leave the box. They'd had to clean an inch of dust off the seats when they came in.

Frog is waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Kankuro eyes him. 

"You have Mat duty next week," Frog tells Kankuro before turning and disappearing into the depths of the Playhouse. 

Kankuro snorts, then he laughs, and then he cries. His siblings don't mention it to him. 

\---

"I am going to be Kazekage." 

Temari looks up from her never ending stack of papers. Rasa's estate is a mess. It's going to take months to sort it all out. Temari knew the village was in dire straights, but the numbers in front of her are starting to swim. She can't imagine how Kankuro is doing sorting through their father's personal effects. 

"What?" She asks. 

Gaara repeats himself. 

Temari's jaw works. She opens her mouth, closes it. Opens it again. 

"Why?" 

It's a fair question and Gaara thinks before he responds. 

"Living for yourself is lonely," he says, "and I don't want to be lonely anymore." 

\---

"What Face would you give me?" Gaara asks his brother. They are on the roof and the sun has long gone down but it's not quite cold enough to retreat inside yet. 

"You wouldn't like it," Kankuro tells him.

"Tell me anyway." 

Kankuro looks up at the endless carpet of stars. "The Wisteria Spirit." 

"Why?" Gaara asks. 

"Because," Kankuro says to his brother, "all she ever wanted was love." 

\---

The jounin are not happy to be working with Gaara, but he's back to full health and they know better than to try. For his part Gaara is doing his best to keep Shukaku calm, to work as a team with people who aren't his siblings. He doesn't understand all the forces at work against him but Temari and Kankuro do. 

In the evenings they talk. Occasionally they argue. Kankuro teaches Gaara the fine art of cooking things other than salted lizard tongue. 

Sometimes Kankuro acts out stories and for the first time both his brother and sister sit and listen without interrupting once. 

\---

Kankuro is guts-deep in Sanshuo and knows he has two more hours in the public workroom when Dragon approaches. He tenses, ready to argue for his rightful time slot. 

"Your brother just petitioned for the position of Kazekage." He says.

This is not what Kankuro anticipated discussing. 

"So?" He tries to make it careless. 

Dragon examines him and Kankuro stands to face him. Sometimes he can still taste bile in the back of his throat from their very first match. 

That's fine. Underneath the full beard he manages to maintain by limiting his Face choice, Dragon's got a scar that drags all the way up to his ear. 

"Tell him we said break a leg." Dragon says and walks away. 

Kankuro stares after him gobsmacked for almost three minutes. 

\---

It is the duty of the wife of the Kazekage to sew his robes of station, but Gaara has no wife, just a sister. 

Temari's worktable has been cleared of spines, tiny wrenches and fasteners, heartier linen blends she uses to repair her tessen. She has scrubbed the polishing oil and grease, waxed the surface until it gleamed. The blue silk draped across her lap and down the table like a bride's runner is the same shade as Konoha's sky. She works every evening with her head bent and her hands steady. 

There are two weeks to the ceremony and she doesn't look up, only calls "Come in," when she hears Baki's knock. 

He sits beside her. "The Council thinks this is the best way to control him," he says. He doesn't need to tell her, but she knows he feels he must. 

"The Council is a bunch of withered old fools," she says, checks a stitch critically. 

"They are going to try and shackle him." 

Temari looks up at the man who was her teacher and is now her chunin squad leader. Baki watches her with an uncompromising gaze. He is asking a question Temari has asked herself many times before. 

She looks back down at her sewing. 

"I'd like to see them try," she says. 

Baki stands, kisses her on the forehead. It's only the second time he's done it her whole life. 

"He is very lucky to have you for a sister," he tells her. 

Temari has to stop sewing for a while after Baki leaves. She doesn't want her tears to ruin Gaara's fine silk. 

\---

"Chiyo has to die eventually," Temari tells Kankuro. He's painting new puppet-scrolls, tongue tight between his teeth in concentration. There's a smudge of black ink on his face. Today he is Momotaro. Temari is starting to learn the Faces.

"And when she does the Playhouse isn't going to pick me," Kankuro tells his sister. He kneels back to examine his work. The scrolls are still bigger than he would like but they make his puppets more portable.

He is gonna miss the convenience of the wrapping-switch justsu, though. 

"I wouldn't be so sure." Temari replies. 

"I would," Kankuro says. "Hand me that ink pot?" 

\---

"We have to go after him," Yura says. 

Kankuro would argue, would snap and spit poison, remind Yura of the moment he called the Kazekage a thing in the godforesaken sun outside of the Playhouse, but he doesn't have time. Their Kazekage has been taken, his _brother_ has been taken, and he's not going to sit around and wait for old men to bleed the young for their pride. He'll find a way out despite Temari's minders, he'll-

"Kankuro?" Yura asks.

They're surrounded by a wall of stage-ready black. 

"If you go now," Sparrow says, "we can cover for you for a couple of hours." 

"Shouldn't be hard," Cricket says with a grin. "We just need a lot of purple paint." 

"Speak for yourself," Dragon mutters. He catches Kankuro's eye. 

"Go." 

"Break a leg," the puppeteers echo. 

Kankuro doesn't waste time. He turns on his heel and heads for the wall. 

\---

For a man who has died and come back to life Gaara looks pretty good. 

He sits in the Kazekage's box, Kankuro beside him. It's had a new paint job and the seats have been reupholstered. The screens which drop to keep out the sand and allow privacy have been restrung with new bamboo imported from the Land of Fire, painted with dancing Oni and Tengu. One has a monk praying in a cactus garden. Kankuro thinks he recognizes some of the cacti in question. 

Down below on the stage the puppeteers are practicing. Gaara thinks he can identify Sidewinder, Trapdoor (who requested the Kazekage just leave off the Spider), Frog.

"Can we stay forever?" Gaara asks. 

"Forever is a long time for any sanctuary." 

"Maybe," Gaara agrees. "And I need to water Ukki junior." 

They watch a little longer. "Kankuro?"

"Yes?" 

"What will you do for your first official performance?" 

Kankuro picks at the intricate embroidery on his Troup Master robes, scratches the edge of his face paint- three swoops on either cheek, two on his forehead, a half moon on his chin. Shigamura, it's called. The Mountain Mover. It's bad luck to share your promotion play before you perform it and even worse luck to share your first choice for said play. Kankuro does not give one half of a rat's ass. 

"I was thinking about Mochizuki," he says. 

Gaara smiles. "That would be pleasant." 

"Yes," the Troupe Master tells the Kazekage, "I rather thought so."

**Author's Note:**

> While most of the Faces and characters I use are entirely made up or at best amalgamations, the Face Kankuro wears to his father's funeral is based on a Noh play called Mochizuki, which tells the tale of the murder of Yasuda-no-Shoji Tomoharu and the subsequent revenge taken by his retainer Tomofusa.
> 
> Likewise, the Rabbit and the Badger is also a real drama.
> 
> I tried to keep Prince Shigamura out of it, but there's just no stopping him. 
> 
> I can't recall if Yura (an obscure character to beat all obscure characters) was for or against rescuing Gaara during the council meeting portrayed in Shippuden. Let's pretend he was all for it, I'm too damn lazy to find the correct scans and clips.
> 
> Yes, we can infer that Ukki Junior is the descendant of the notorious Mr. Ukki and was probably a gift from Naruto.


End file.
